


Chill

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Fluffabet, M/M, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Even the seasons in Insomnia change.





	Chill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



Insomnia was too big to just have one set of steady weather forecasts. By the time rain was predicted for the Citadel, it was already shining out by the eastern gate. The dawn stretching out across the city raised fog over the water ways and inlets without ever doing more than blinding the poor bastard who forgot to close his curtains somewhere along the northern fortifications. Each district and section of the city had its own set of weather predictions and forecasts— with the heart of the royal city still portrayed as the status quo for what to expect. The dry winds whipping over the Cavaugh borders would never reach the dampness of the coastal Wall, and the urban heat that radiated throughout the heart of the Crown City would never touch the lower districts which funnelled the chill sea breezes in through the canyons of steel and glass. 

Nyx remembered leaving his apartment on the mornings where the clouds had opened above his head, only to get to the training yards to find colleagues from the other side of the city asking why he looked like a drowned rat. He had learnt— quickly and easily— to be prepared for anything when he had to cross districts. The Crown City was just simply too big to accurately predict. 

But cold was universal. 

The Leiden desert heat rarely crossed the long bridge into the city in the autumn months. The winds turned cold, and in most parts of the city, the leaves turned. Where it didn’t rain, the chill of the wet weather could be felt on the breeze elsewhere, the buzz of conversation throughout the city already turning to the dampness and the promise of bone-seeping chill.

Nyx had also learnt that the city only ever seemed to have a universal season change— with everyone lamenting the loss of the steaming heat of the summer. 

When he had arrived at the apartment the day before— grey scarf looped around his throat to ward off both the chill and the childhood reminders of chills and a cold death that still rang in his head— Gladiolus had greeted him by telling him that he looked ridiculous. Reminding him that, no matter how many years were spent in the Lucian city, Nyx could still look out of place just reacting to the cold. He had laughed it off when he had seen how the Shield had taken advantage of the luxury of the apartment in the new chill— heavy throw blankets and warm drinks were still the best companions to a good book, in Gladio’s opinion. 

They had spent the night sniping at each other, teasing each other, Noctis the buffer between them. Noctis, the sleep-warmed, pliant body between them now. 

Nyx enjoyed waking first on mornings like these. There was already frost on the windows, the first lights shattered between the crystals as he peeked at it through the blinds to get a sense of the time. The bed was warm— too warm, shared between the three of them— but the glass was cold, the light was cold. And with Noctis moving against him in protest of the dawn’s intrusion, Nyx was happy for the reminder that he wasn’t back at his apartment where the chill would have seeped in through the walls throughout the night. 

But he liked the mornings like this. Early hours where he was warm and his lovers were safe, and he could resettle beneath the blankets and let his hands wander. Let himself admire the slightness of Noctis against him, and the heavy presence of Gladio across from him. He liked the lazy smile from the Shield and the way their eyes met as Nyx staked his claim on Noctis with a kiss to the sleeping prince’s shoulder. He liked the wry look it earned him and the weight— comforting, possessive— of Gladio’s arm thrown across them both to hold them in place. To keep him from getting up and disturbing the soft peace. 

“It’s cold,” Gladio rumbled in the dark, the blankets bunched somewhere between them; thrown off in the heat of the night. 

“It’s too warm,” Nyx offered, just to be contrary. Grinning back at the look it earned him and the squeeze to his hip Gladio responded with. 

There were no plans for the day— no rush to get up and moving, no promises or appointments to get to. No duties or obligations or shifts. They could let Noctis sleep between them, warm and solid, for a few hours longer. They could get up later for a late breakfast, for warm coffee, and watched the cold light spread over the city. The could get up now, let Noct sleep while they watched the frost melt on the balcony doors and apartment windows, fresh coffee shared between them. 

Nyx thought of the cold air outside, and reached down to straighten out the blankets over them. Gladio helped with a smirk as Noct burrowed closer to his broader chest. 

“It’s cold,” Nyx agreed.


End file.
